Chapter Three
“You could do with a bath.”
“No soap. I did my best with cold water.”
“Is there anything you would like to say to me?”
“Why?”
“Not thank you?”
“If your intentions are honourable.”
“You mean your cunt is no longer on offer?”
“As is!”
“Maybe a bath first.”
“But why? You know what I am. Why save me and not my friends?”
“Your lie saved you. Had you not maintained you were Gelda, this conversation would not be happening. You would be buried in the Siberian permafrost.”
The purloined Mercedes ran as smooth as could be expected on a dusty stone road, Anatoly aiming for civilisation.
“And you? A hunch. I have a feeling that you could make reparation.”
“Dropping me off at a convent are you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What did you dig up on me that didn’t make it to a dossie
